


What He Wants

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-10
Updated: 2006-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Excerpt:Realizing that I was in love with Harry wasn’t the hard part. Getting him to grasp it, now that was something else.





	What He Wants

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/hprwfqf/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/hprwfqf/)**hprwfqf** Round One Challegne -   
  
**Promt : Post-War #10. One of the boys reflects on the gradual change between he and the other boy from friends to something more.**

**Beta:** All credit and thanks go to the awesome [](http://crystallekil.livejournal.com/profile)[**crystallekil**](http://crystallekil.livejournal.com/) ♥   


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.

* * *

There are times I’ve asked myself what he’s doing with me. Famous Harry Potter with a nobody like Ron Weasley. There’s a part of me that has always been a bit jealous of him. Don’t get me wrong, I have always loved Harry like any good best mate would. I stood by his side in the war, through a barrage of horrid first dates, and through every tryout for a professional Quidditch team. I cheered him on and congratulated him on his every success.

It wasn’t always heartfelt though, and I think sometimes he realized that. I was so used to competing with my brothers all the time that it was only natural to compete with Harry too. At least that’s what I thought. It took awhile before I finally realized that I wasn’t competing with him, but rather _for_ him.

***~*~***

_An awkward silence encompasses them both as they walk across the pitch, and Ron is about to whine over his awful tryout when Harry speaks first._

_“I’m sure you did really good, Ron. If the captain doesn’t pick you for the team he’s out of his mind.”_

_“That’s bollocks and you know it!” Ron says miserably as he bangs his head with his broom. “I completely choked. An actual tryout for Puddlemere United and I go and screw it up.”_

_“It couldn’t be that bad, Ron.”_

_“You’re only saying that because they held your tryout on the other field and you weren’t watching.”_

_“It can’t be as bad as all that,” Harry tries again._

_“It is, Harry. It really, really is.” Ron sighs, feeling absolutely dejected._

_“Look, if they don’t make you an offer then I won’t join the team, all right?”_

_“What?!” he exclaims loudly. Rather than be comforted by Harry’s words, Ron feels his blood begin to boil. “So sure you’re going to make the team already? Perfect Potter. I bet you didn’t screw up once. Besides I don’t need your pity!”_

_Harry stops short, his face turning furious. “Grow up, Ron! Where is this coming from? It’s not about pity. Excuse me for wanting to play Quidditch with my best mate. Maybe after years of doing what other people wanted, I’m being selfish for once. Maybe it isn’t fun for me to play without you. Did you even think of that? No, because everything’s about you, right? And for your information they already offered me a place on the team but I told them I had to think about it.”_

_Ron’s previous anger dissipates as fast as it came, immediately being replaced by more than a fair bit of confusion. However, it doesn’t take long before Harry‘s last sentence registers in his brain._

_“You- wait they offered you a spot on the team? As a starter?” He can’t even muster up much resentment; he’s far too excited for Harry._

_“Erm, Yeah.” Harry stammers. “You mean you aren’t mad?”_

_“Are you crazy?“ Ron grabs Harry in a bone-crushing hug, his previous agony forgotten. “This is brilliant! At least if I don‘t make the team, I can still come to all your games.”_

_“What about what you said before?”_

_“You know half the stuff that comes out of my mouth is rubbish.” Ron says with a grin. “Forget I said any of it.”_

_“I meant what I said, Ron.” Harry fixes Ron with a piercing stare. “If this is going to cause tension between us I won’t do it. This,” he gestures between both of them, “ is worth more than that.”_

_Ron‘s not listening, “I mean it, Harry. You have to take this. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. You can’t turn it down!”_

_“Yeah, all right. I think I’ll do it then.”_

_Harry is beaming, and Ron finally understands that beating Harry means nothing. Ron would’ve given up something he loved more than breathing if it made Harry happy. He isn’t exactly sure what it means, but somehow it feels quite a bit like winning._

***~*~***

I always knew I cared about Harry; that much was obvious. Anyone who says love a gradual progression is lying, though. I walked into the bathroom one day as Harry was getting out of the shower and all the sudden all I could think was “Bloody hell, I want to fuck my best mate.” Of course later that night when he fell asleep on my shoulder, I realized I didn’t want to just fuck him but _love_ him too; that was something new.

He’s got a wicked sense of humor, a devious streak a mile wide, a Quidditch-toned body that he still tries to hide behind too big clothes, and a naivety and innocence that shouldn’t belong to someone who’s been through everything that he has.

In retrospect, realizing that I was in love with Harry wasn’t the hard part. Getting him to grasp it, now that was something else.

***~*~***

_“Oi, Mate, get your skinny arse over here now!”_

_“Who are you calling skinny, Weasley? I distinctly remember your mum trying to fatten you up last Sunday. If anyone is skinny it’s you. I like to think I‘m not quite as scrawny as I was back at Hogwarts.”_

_“Yeah, Harry, sure. You go on believing that.” Ron pokes Harry in the ribs as he walks into the kitchen. “See, skinny! I could do to fatten you up if Mum won‘t do the job properly.”_

_“I was only kidding and you know it!” Harry rolls his eyes and points to his rather large breakfast. “Your mum is still sending me care packages, even when I’m in training. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat enough to satisfy her.”_

_Ron snorts in agreement as he shuffles through the morning’s owl post. After handing a large pile of letters to Harry, he pours a glass of pumpkin juice and joins his roommate at the table._

_“Mate, you’re just never going to be rid of those fan letters. Maybe you really should have let Creevey start that fan club. At least then someone else would’ve been in charge of all that.”_

_Harry snorts. “Ha! I don’t want to encourage them, Ron.”_

_“I hate to be the one to break it to you but there’s no encouraging needed.” Ron gets up from the table and pours a bowl of cereal. “Not only did you defeat Voldemort, you’re one of the youngest professional Quidditch players around, and_ Witch Weekly _has made you some kind of pin-up boy.”_

_“Pin-up boy?”_

_“Oh come on, Harry. They put you on the cover at least once a month. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the locker room photo disaster already?”_

_Harry covers his eyes with his hands and thumps his head down on the table in embarrassment. “Merlin, don’t remind me. I couldn’t go anywhere for weeks. Everywhere I looked there was a copy of that bloody magazine with me on the front- in nothing but a towel! I still don’t know how they got that picture. Or why everyone made such a big deal out of it.”_

_“Oi, don’t go all humble on me now, Potter! Half the Wizarding world fancies you.” Ron refrains from mentioning that he still has that particular photo pinned up in his room with a notice-me-not charm on it._

_“Right, because there is oh-so much to fancy about me.”_

_If it were anyone else, Ron would swear they were fishing for compliments, but ten years of being Harry’s best mate has taught him one thing- Harry never really understands what other people see in him._

_“Well for one thing, you’re bloody gorgeous. Don’t deny it either - you know you’re fit.”_

_Harry stares at him in shock before mumbling something unintelligible, but to Ron’s amusement he notices that Harry is indeed blushing. Not questioning Ron’s admission, not making fun or even making a joke out it, just blushing- and looking absolutely adorable. Perhaps, Ron thinks, winning Harry over won’t be so difficult after all._

***~*~***

There were times when I dropped so many hints that I was sure that everyone _but_ Harry must have known how I felt about him. I flirted shamelessly, tried to make him jealous, and even broached the subject of being with another bloke once or twice. Harry would blush and stutter, later acting like nothing was ever said. He didn’t seem adverse to the idea- just oblivious that I was talking about myself.

Except it turns out Harry knew all along. All right, all right, in all fairness it wasn’t _all along_. Hermione swears she only broke down and told him right before my birthday. I’m still sticking to my theory that Harry was simply playing coy and trying to drive me crazy.

Either way, my twenty-first birthday was one I’ll never forget.

***~*~***

_“Happy birthday, Ron.” Hermione says as she kisses him on the cheek. “Quite a big bash you’ve got going on here. The Burrow looks brilliant.”_

_Ron has to agree; his Mum really had gone all out. There are fairy lights dangling from all the trees, and red lanterns seemingly hang from the sky. The tables are decked out with all of Ron’s favorite foods, and the crowning glory is a giant cake iced in a delectable-looking orange frosting._

_“Yeah, well Mum says you only turn twenty-one once.”_

_“Your mum? But I thought that Ha-”_

_“Hey guys!” Harry calls out as he jogs over to join them by the far table. “Hermione, I’m so glad you could make it. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to get away.”_

_Hermione smiles warmly. “Well you know how busy it gets at the Ministry, Harry, but how I could I miss Ron’s birthday?”_

_Ron clears his throat to get their attention. “Wait, I want to know what you were going to say before, Hermione.”_

_“Oh, did I interrupt something?” Harry asks._

_“Well, Hermione was just saying something about Mum not being the one to do the decorating.”_

_“What? Of course your mum did it. Who else would do it?” Harry replies, rather unconvincingly. “Right, Hermione?” Ron is completely baffled by the slightly accusatory glare that Harry is giving Hermione._

_“It was nothing, Ron. Forget I said anything. Oh look, there’s Neville. I’m going to go say hi.” With that, Hermione speeds away._

_“What was that about, Harry?” Ron arches his eyebrow._

_Harry shuffles his feet nervously. “Nothing, Mate. Just Hermione being Hermione. Oh bugger, I’ve got to go check on something. I‘ll be right back!”_

_“Wait, Harry. Where are you going?” Ron yells after him, though to no avail._

_An hour later, Ron still can’t manage to find Harry. Sure, the party is going smashingly and everyone he knows and even some people he doesn’t have shown up. But if he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s a bit bored. No one here laughs at his jokes the same way that Harry does. Their faces don’t light up when they laugh and their mouths don’t quirk in a half smile. And they don’t pat Ron on the back and let their fingers linger on the fine hairs at the base of his neck._

_Ron is prematurely interrupted from his brooding by his mother. “Ronald, dear, are you having a good time? You seemed so happy earlier, but you’re starting to look a bit gloomy. Is something wrong?”_

_“No, Mum, I’m fine.” he insists._

_Mrs. Weasley frowns. “Ronald, I’ve been your mother for twenty-one years and gone through a twenty-nine hour labor. If anyone knows when you’re lying it’s me, dear.”_

_“Harry,” Ron whispers._

_It’s only one word, but his mum nods her head as though she understands perfectly. “He did all this, you know.” She waves her arms around, gesturing at the party in full swing. “He didn’t really want you to know, but I think that might be the answer you’re looking for.”_

_“Answer?” he repeats. “If that’s the answer then what’s the question?”_

_“You’ll have to ask Harry that.“ She walks over and kisses him on the cheek. “If I’m not mistaken he’s still in your old bedroom.”_

_“Thanks, Mum.”_

_Not wanting to bother trying to make his way through the crowd, he Apparates directly into his bedroom- and a scene of mass chaos. Harry is sitting in the middle of the floor with a green bow in his hair, tape stuck on the side of his shirt, and at least a roll of paper rolled out along every available surface._

_Harry looks up suddenly at the sound of Ron’s Apparition. “Ron! What’re you doing? Go back outside!”_

_“Harry, what are_ you _doing?” Ron exclaims as he shuffles through the mass of wrapping paper and tissue. “Is all this for my birthday? What on earth could be so difficult to wrap? You’ve been up here over an hour, mate.”_

_Harry looks like a deer caught in headlights, and the bow perched on his head isn’t diminishing Ron’s desire to explode into laughter. He manages to hold it in, recognizing that now is definitely not the time to embarrass Harry further, not if he wants any answers- or presents._

_“Harry?” Ron’s tone is gentle and coaxing._

_Harry takes a calming breath. “The thing is, your present didn’t come until tonight. I bought it months ago and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be here in time, but then I saw an owl swoop by while I was talking to you and Hermione earlier and I knew it was your gift. That’s why I took off.”_

_Ron considers this. “Right, well that still doesn’t exactly explain this mess.”_

_“Well the thing of it is,” Harry says slowly, as though he’s unsure of his response. “The present was sort of big so it wouldn’t fit in a box. So I was going to wrap it and hide it until just before you opened it, otherwise you would’ve known what it was straight off. Only, I had a little trouble wrapping it.”_

_“But why didn’t you wrap it with magic?”_

_“I couldn’t.”_

_“What do you mean you couldn’t? Why not?” Ron persists._

_“I just couldn’t, Ron,” Harry says exasperatedly. “You can‘t use magic for this.”_

_“Harry, what’s going on?” Ron begins fiddling with the buckle on his trousers, something he only does when he’s nervous. “You’re just confusing me more. What kind of gift is too big to wrap and can’t be wrapped with magic?”_

_Instead of answering, Harry scrunches up a large wad of paper to reveal a broom sitting on the floor. Ron’s mouth falls open in surprise and he drops to the floor, running his hands reverently over the smooth, dark handle._

_“Merlin, Harry. Is this what I think it is?”_

_“Yeah,” Harry replies sheepishly. “You like it?”_

_Ron‘s words rush out in a single breath. “Bloody hell, Harry. Do I like it? Of course I like it. It’s brilliant! How in the hell did you get one? Geeze, a Lightning 3. They’re not even on the market yet. Handcrafted to suit each rider individually so that they won’t even fly for another rider. They‘re supposed to be revolutionary in their design; faster, smoother and more powerful. How on earth did you get one?”_

_“I pulled some strings. Being the Boy-Who-Lived might as well be good for some things." Harry shrugs nonchalantly. "Anyway, that’s why I couldn’t wrap it with magic. Its magic is attuned to the first person who casts on it; if I’d wrapped it that way it wouldn’t have been any good to you.”_

_“This must’ve cost you a fortune. I heard second string models are still supposed to run at one thousand galleons.” Ron stops studying the broom to stare directly at Harry._

_“It’s not about the money, Ron. I wanted you to have it. It doesn’t matter how much it cost.” Harry stands almost defensively, as if readying himself for an argument with Ron over the cost._

_Rather than argue, Ron laughs out loud and tackles Harry to the bed. “You great prat! I can’t believe you kept something like this from me.”_

_Harry’s relief is visible, and he playfully shoves Ron back in response, rolling them over so that Harry is left straddling Ron’s waist. Both boys are grinning, but the lighthearted mood dissipates quickly as Ron realizes the position in which they both are. Their faces are mere inches from each other and Ron can smell Harry’s shampoo and the faint trace of fire whiskey on his breath Their bodies are aligned perfectly, making it impossible for either man to hide their now obvious excitement. Harry runs his hands lightly up Ron's sides and arms, raising his wrists above his head and pinning them down possessively._

_“Ron?” It’s barely a whisper, a ghost of a word before Harry captures Ron’s lips in a kiss utterly bruising in its intensity. Their tongues seek out each other within the hot caverns of their joined mouths, and Ron can barely think through the haze of his arousal. He leans back slightly, completely breathless, and Harry takes the opportunity to tenderly nibble on Ron’s lip. After lavishing attention on Ron’s bottom lip, he paves a path of kisses towards Ron’s ear. Kissing his way along Ron’s jaw, he stops to suck at a particularly sensitive spot that makes Ron release a guttural moan._

_“Is this okay?” Harry whispers in Ron’s ear, his voice laced with desire._

_“More than okay, Harry.” Ron responds hoarsely in a tone he didn’t even know he possessed._

_In an effort to take back some of the control, Ron pulls his hands free of Harry’s grip and flips them both over so that Harry is now pinned beneath him. His black hair, completely disheveled, is splayed across the bed and all Ron can focus on is kiss-bruised lips and flushed cheeks. Harry’s chest is heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his eyes half closed in pleasure. Ron feels himself harden further at the knowledge that_ he _is the one doing this to Harry, that Harry seems to want him just as desperately._

Ron begins to flex and rock his hips in a maddeningly slow pattern, rubbing their clothed erections together. It is just enough to create the most delicious friction while simultaneously driving them both mad with need.

Harry mewls as he arches his hips, clutching at Ron’s lower back and pulling him down hard. It isn’t enough and Ron growls in frustration as he yanks Harry’s shirt above his head and makes quick work of his own. Harry lifts his hips completely off the bed, and that’s all the invitation Ron needs before he’s ridding Harry of his pants and finally his boxers. He pauses to admire Harry’s gorgeous body, all toned and tan, sleek, lithe and smooth.

“Perfect,” he says softly, gliding his fingertips up the inside of Harry’s calf and stopping at the entrance of his arse.

Ron worries that he may have taken things too far too soon because Harry is blushing furiously. Except Harry suddenly leans forward, attacking Ron’s neck with his lips as his hands attempt to move everywhere at once.

“Too many clothes,” he manages to get out between greedy kisses as he urges Ron’s hips up and removes the rest of his clothes. Lacking any of his previous shyness, Harry crawls down Ron’s body and engulfs his entire cock into his mouth. There is no warning, only a warm, wet mouth sucking him and slightly-calloused hands stroking his thighs. Harry alternates between a deep, hard sucking motion and a light swirl of his tongue as his other hand grips the base, all the while his thumb working in a circular motion right below his balls. Minutes later, Ron is harder than he ever remembers being. It’s as if Harry knows just how to bring him to the edge of release without letting him achieve it. His fingers are cramping from the tight fists he is making and he’s so desperate for a release that it hurts.

There is a rush cool air on Ron’s wet cock and he moans at the loss of Harry’s talented mouth. He raises his head from the bed to see what Harry is doing and feels his heart rate increase. Harry whispers a lubrication charm, and before Ron can even begin to fantasize about what is to come, Harry slips two fingers inside himself and throws his head back, his mouth opening in a silent moan.

“Oh, fuck.” Ron breathes.

If he wasn’t already hard as a rock, he knows the sight of Harry preparing himself would remedy that in no time. As it is, Ron can’t tear his eyes away from Harry kneeling at the bottom of the bed, now with three fingers slowly stretching himself and his free hand occasionally pulling on his own erect cock

Locking eyes with Ron, Harry slowly withdraws his fingers and crawls the remaining distance between himself and Ron’s painfully hard cock. He leans forward onto his knees and straddles Ron's waist, slowly sinking down onto Ron's lap and impaling himself on Ron's cock.

Both men moan appreciatively at the contact. Ron is sure he won’t last long; Harry is deliciously hot and tight, and Ron wants nothing more than to repeatedly thrust himself into the man above him. They quickly develop a solid rhythm as they match each other’s strokes. Fervently whispered words of passion and lust are exchanged as a luscious exploit of sweat-soaked bodies slide against each other, all sharp angles and muscles. There is nothing slow or gentle about it; it is needy and raw and all consuming.

Ron is close to release, and he can tell from the clenching of Harry’s muscles that with the right stimulation he won’t be far behind. Snaking his hand between their bodies, Ron seeks out Harry’s throbbing cock, causing Harry to arch his back in response and inadvertently driving Ron’s cock deeper than he thought it could go. Ron continues to apply fast, firm stokes as their momentum continues to increase; it is almost too much. Ron latches onto Harry’s mouth and kisses him like a drowning man, frantically needing something to focus on in the overflow of sensation. He can feel his orgasm rapidly approaching as the tightness in his belly intensifies, and he works Harry’s cock faster as he continues thrusting himself into Harry‘s body.

With a final jerk, Harry comes hard. His mouth opens to let out an intense moan and he clings to Ron, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he rides the after waves of his orgasm. Unable to hold back at the sight of Harry’s uninhibited display of ecstasy, Ron is overcome by the magnitude of his release.

They lie together for several moments, catching their breath and reveling in the intense feelings of relaxation and pleasure. Despite wanting to do nothing more than stay there forever, Ron leans over the edge of the bed, grabs his wand from the pocket of his discarded jeans and whispers a cleaning charm to rid them of their sticky mess.

“So,” Harry says nervously.

It still amazes Ron that Harry can go back and forth between innocence and dominance so easily. A smile graces his face as he slowly shakes his head. Lying back against the head of the bed, Ron pulls Harry up so that his head rests on Ron’s chest. He runs his hands gently through Harry’s hair and lets his eyelids flutter closed, completely content.

Ron is quite sure that this is the best birthday he’s ever had.

***~*~***

Yeah, I definitely used to wonder what Harry was doing with me. That is until I finally realized one important thing- what Harry Potter wants Harry Potter gets. Turns out, he wanted me.


End file.
